A/N: more chapters. I can assure you that there won't always be two chapters per day, I've just got nothing better to do XD

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

It'S TeLLiNg mE tO HUrT ThEM

CaN't

I HaVE tO FiGHt iT

It'S STroNG

It'S StrOnGER ThAN mE

CaN'T HoLD iT BaCK FoR MucH MOrE

******

It was one of the rare mornings when Harry had decided too join his housemates for breakfast, even thought he was most definitely not going to touch the food lain out before him.

"We didn't see you at all over the weekend," Hermione spoke up.

"I had a lot of homework," Harry replied.

"You and me both," Ron said around a mouthful of toast. Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste at the copious amounts of crumbs Ron was spewing everywhere, but Harry just grinned.

It wasn't long before owls filled the Great Hall, swooping around and delivering mail. Harry didn't see Hedwig amongst the many birds, instead a tawny owl landing in front of him with the Daily Prophet tied to its leg. Harry handed over three small bronze coins, the owl taking off.

Harry nearly dropped the newspaper in shock, his wide eyes flickering across the headline. Wordlessly, he handed it to Hermione, who gasped and nearly spilt pumpkin juice all over herself.

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR

"Umbridge, High Inquisitor?" Harry asked somewhat darkly, Ron abandoning his breakfast to look at the paper over Hermione's shoulder.

"What does that mean?" Ron asked, Hermione beginning to read the article aloud.

"In a surprise move last night, the ministry of magic passed new legislations giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

This is not the first time in recent weeks that the Ministry used new laws to effect improvements at the wizarding school. As recently as 30th August, Educational Degree number Twenty-Two was passed, to ensure that in the event that the current Headmaster is unable to select a candidate for a teacher's post, the ministry will now select an appropriate person. This is how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed amongst the teaching staff at Hogwarts, and she has been an immediate success-"

"She's been a WHAT?!" Harry asked loudly.

Hermione frowned, continuing to read, her voice grim.

"Totally revolutionising the Defence Against the Dark Arts and providing the minister with feedback about what is really happening at Hogwarts. She had been granted the power to inspect classes, and ensure with the ministry that they are running as they should be."

"So this is how we ended up with Umbridge," Hermione snarled. "It's outrageous."

"I know it is," Harry replied, looking down at the now slightly fading jagged white lines running across his hand. He looked up at Ron, who was starting to grin. "What?"

"I can't wait for her to inspect McGonagall," Ron whispered excitedly. "She'll get it then."

******

Professor Binns's class was as boring and tasteless and usual, Harry sitting in the darkest corner of the room he could get to, awaiting the potions lesson where he might actually get to see Draco. The boy had said he might go to classes today, but it'd probably just end up with him showing up for those he actually wanted to attend.

And sure enough as he walked into Snape's dungeons classroom, seeing a familiar head of frosty white hair sitting at their shared desk that they'd been forced to share since third year.

He sat down, dropping his bag and sending a grin towards the sleepy looking werewolf.

"Good morning," Harry said, smirking.

"Shut up, I'm tired," Draco replied, resisting the urge to simply pit his head on the desk and go back to sleep.

"Well I've got news, I'll tell you at recess though. It's pretty bad," Harry said, voice becoming hushed as Snape began to speak, Draco looking confused but snapping back to reality as two papers were dropped on their desks.

Harry picked up his returned Moonstone essay, looking rather happy at the jagged black A scribbled at the top. And of course, an O was written at the top of Draco's.

Ron was looking rather ill at his result, whereas Hermione was smiling quite happily.

"I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you'd presented this work in your OWL exam," Snape said, glowering at a fair few people. "The majority of this class' work was abysmal, and the majority of you would've failed if this was your OWL exam. I may have to start handing out detentions to those of you who have somehow managed to get D's."

Harry tried not to sigh in relief. He'd gotten an A, which most certainly wasn't a D. Relieved, he set about work for the day, Draco drowsily helping create the Strengthening Solution. Even though the werewolf was practically tripping over himself with exhaustion, he still managed to perfect the potion and leave a phial of it on Snape's desk.

"You said you had something to tell me?" Draco asked tiredly as they walked out onto the grounds, Draco flopping down against a large tree, Harry sitting next to him, pulling the newspaper out of his bag and handing it to Draco.

His grey eyes flickered across the page as he leaned his head on Harry's shoulder, a frown forming on his face. "So she has the power to fire teachers now?"

"I think so, not sure. I know she has the right to inspect teachers though."

"So you got an A," Draco brought up a different subject. "Well done."

"Thanks, I honestly was expecting something less," Harry replied. "And of course you got an O."

"O isn't that far off from an A," Draco pointed out. "Its O for outstanding, E for exceeds expectations, A for acceptable, P for poor, D for dreadful."

"Don't forget T."

"What the hell does T stand for?"

"Troll, of course." Draco cracked a small grin.

"Y'know," the werewolf said. "I always thought I should get E's in History Of Magic. I was probably exceeding everyone's expectations by even showing up to class."

Harry laughed. "I think we all are. That class puts everyone to sleep, it's so boring."

"Definitely. Well, look at the time. We've got double Care Of Magical Creatures now, haven't we? At least Newt'll forgive me for my tiredness," Draco said, letting Harry pull him to his feet.

******

Newt frowned, unable to help the glare that came across his face at the sight of the pink wearing professor who was walking across the grounds towards their class.

He'd brought out the four different species of unicorn that he had. Evyndor, the part African unicorn, Chase, a standard English unicorn, Belle, who was a Greek unicorn, and finally, Doll, the tiny little American unicorn.

He was already teaching, Umbridge standing behind the crowd of students.

"Now, you may pat all of them, but I warn you to be gentle with them all. They're all quite young, and as all the creatures I show you, very unpredictable. If any become hostile, step back immediately," Newt warned the class, surveying the nodding students who then proceeded towards the large paddock behind Newt.

"Unicorns?" Umbridge questioned.

"No," Newt replied sarcastically. "Rhinos." He most definitely wasn't going to be taking any of Umbridge's demeaning and threats, after overhearing some of the teachers talking about her behind her back. She'd been inspecting different classes all morning, apparently.

"There's no need to be rude," Umbridge snapped. "How long have you been working here?"

"Since halfway through last year," Newt answered boredly, not bothering to look at her and instead keeping his attention focused on the class, surveying each animal to make sure they weren't being mistreated, or weren't becoming aggravated.

"I was under the impression that Rubeus Hagrid usually taught this class."

"He does. There were a lot of classes, so Dumbledore employed extra help," Newt said, watching Umbridge scribble something down on her little pink clipboard out of the corner of his eye.

"And where is Professor Hagrid?"

"That information is classified," Newt replied shortly. He, of course, knew very well where the half-giant was, but he most certainly wasn't going to tell this woman anything.

"Alright. Last year, the records say you had... An assistant of some sort?"

"That would be Ezra," Newt replied, his voice nearly getting caught him his throat as he spoke.

"And he was your husband, correct?"

"Yes."

"So you're homosexual, then?"

"I fail to see how my sexuality affects my teaching ability, Dolores," Newt snapped, face reddening with rage.

"Oh, it doesn't. Where is Professor Ezra, then?"

"Away," Newt replied, close to losing his temper.

"Away, where?"

Newt opened his mouth, preparing to yell at the stupid woman, when a voice amongst the students rang out.

"Professor, could you explain something?" It was Harry. Newt shot him a grateful smile before walking towards them, Umbridge following. "I was just curious why this unicorn is black, and the others are white."

"Ah, that's a very interesting phenomenon indeed," Newt said, patting Evyndor. "A few years ago, a group of English unicorns, like Chase," Newt pointed towards the Snow White unicorn, alike one Hagrid had shown them before. "Were taken illegally to Africa to be bred in an illegal program. Unicorns aren't very adaptable creatures, especially English unicorns. Evyndor's mother was ill when she gave birth, and that mixed with the different climate and unhealthy living conditions resulted in a half blind, black unicorn."

A few of the students nodded, looking sadly towards the tall black unicorn, who simply tossed his head, enjoying the attention he was receiving.

"Now, I'd like you to all get out your quills and books, and write up a brief description about the differences of English unicorns, Greek unicorns, and American unicorns. Well leave the African one's out, as Evyndor isn't really an accurate example."

The students hurried towards their bags, finding places to sit against trees or on the grass as Newt walked over to Doll, the American unicorn.

Doll was a tiny little unicorn, completely covered in fluffy, white fur. Newt picked the tiny animal up, holding her in his arms and fussing over the creature, hoping Umbridge wouldn't talk to him.

******

"Poor Newt," Hermione said as they walked back up to the castle, Harry mentally preparing himself for their Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.

"He looked like he was about to completely breakdown," Ron said.

"Well it really wasn't right for her to question him about that," Hermione said. "He doesn't let his personal life get in the way of his teaching, so it doesn't matter."

******

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was silent, as per usual. Chapter two of Basics For Beginners was open on Harry's desk as he stared at the words, not even intending to read them at all. Draco was doing the same, although the Harry was having to poke him every so often before he fell asleep on his desk.

It wasn't long before Hermione raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I've already read chapter two."

"Well the proceed onto chapter three."

"I've read the whole book," Hermione replied, Harry rolling his eyes, not at all surprised.

"Well then, surely you can tell me what Slinkhard says about counter jinxes in chapter fifteen."

"He says counter jinxes are improperly named," Hermione replied smartly. "He says that counter jinx is just a name that people give their jinxes to make then sound more acceptable."

By now the whole class was watching, waiting for Umbridge's response as she raised an eyebrow. But Hermione kept talking.

"But I disagree with him.

"And why is that?"

"Because Slinkhard doesn't like jinxes, does he? But I think they can be very useful when used defensively," Hermione replied.

"Oh, you do, do you?" Umbridge said, standing up. "Well I'm afraid it is Mr Slinkhard's opinion, and not yours, that matters in this classroom, Miss Granger.'

"But-"

"That is enough. I am taking five points from Gryffindor."

An outbreak of angry mutters from the Gryffindors in the classroom sounded, Harry speaking up. "What for?!"

"Don't get involved," Draco hissed, grey eyes flashing. Harry ignored him.

"For making pointless interruptions in class. I'm here to teach you using a ministry improved method that doesn't include student's opinions on a subject that they know very little about. Your previous teachers may have allowed this, with the exception of Professor Quirell-"

"Oh yes," Harry said loudly, sarcasm practically dripping from his voice. "Quirell was a great teacher, there was just that minor drawback of him having Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head."

A few snickers rang around the classroom, Draco putting his head on his table with a resigned sigh.

"I think another week's detention would do you some good, Mr Potter," Professor Umbridge said, chills running down her spine. Harry didn't reply, his green eyes lifeless, a smile on his face.

******

The cut on the back of Harry's hand had barely had time to heal since Saturday, and now on Tuesday morning, it was back to bleeding profusely. Draco had flipped out completely, yelling at why he had to go and talk back to her again.

Angelina had the exact same reaction. She'd thrown a fit in the a Great Hall at the fact that he wouldn't be able to go to any Quidditch practices because of his new week's worth of detentions.

"Miss Johnson! How dare you make such a racket in the a Great Hall!" McGonagall, who'd heard the yelling and come down to investigate snapped. "Five points from Gryffindor."

"But professor, he's fine and landed himself in detention again-"

"Detention?" She turned to Harry. "Detention for whom?"

"Professor Umbridge," Harry replied quietly, not daring to look up at the now infuriated transfiguration professor.

"What?! Are you telling me, that even after that warning I gave you last Monday, that you lost your temper in her class again?!"

"Yes."

"Potter, you must get a grip on yourself!" McGonagall snapped. "Five points from Gryffindor.

"No, what?!" Harry asked, shock and anger flooding him. "I already get punished enough from her, why do you have to take points away too?!" Harry hid his still stinging left hand behind his back.

"Because these detentions seem to have no effect on you! Now, I will ask for you two to refrain from shouting in the Great Hall, and instead keep it on the Quidditch Pitch,' McGonagall said curtly, before walking away.

Angelina gave Harry a look of disgust, and Harry half expected her to drag him off to the Quidditch pitch so she could scream her lungs out at him, but instead she turned and left, leaving Harry fuming.

******

Harry dropped his bag by his desk in the transfiguration classroom, sitting down at the desk he shared with Ron.

McGonagall strode in, not giving any inclination that she knew that Professor Umbridge was standing at the back of the class.

"Right," McGonagall said. "Lavender Brown, please come up here, take this box of mice - no they won't hurt you, don't be silly - and hand one out to each student-"

"Hem hem."

McGonagall blatantly ignored the woman standing at the back of the class, instead handing out everyone's marked essays. Harry saw, with relief, that he'd managed to scrape by with another A.

"Right then, everyone listen closely - Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again, I will put you in detention. Most of you have managed to vanish the snails, and have gotten the gist of the spell-"

"Hem hem."

"Yes?!" Professor McGonagall hissed, turning towards the pink wearing professor.

"I was just wondering whether you received my note telling you about your inspection date and time-"

"Of course I received it, or I would've asked what you were doing in my classroom," McGonagall replied shortly, tuning back to the board. "Now, back to Vanishing charms-"

"Hem hem."

"I do wonder," said McGonagall in fury. "How you expect to evaluate my teaching methods if you keep insisting on interrupting me? You see, I generally don't permit people to talk while I am speaking."

Harry couldn't help but grin. Serves the woman right for interrogating Newt, and now interrupting McGonagall. Professor Umbridge looked shocked, but began to scribble furiously on her clipboard.

Professor Umbridge didn't speak for the remainder of the lesson, which mostly consisted of laughing at Ron's attempt to vanish his mouse, which was usually left with a simple tail floating in midair, and scribbling down notes. Harry had managed to successfully complete the charm, thankfully.

******

Harry sat in the library with Ron and Hermione, Hermione talking angrily about Umbridge. He felt sort of lonely without Draco there.

He'd invited the werewolf along, but Draco had said no, saying he simply needed some time to think about things. Harry didn't press the matter, but that didn't make it any easier to deal with.

"Shes bloody useless!" Hermione hissed. "We're all going to fail our OWL's at this rate."

Harry nodded in agreement, tying his scarf tighter around his bleeding hand.

"We should do something about her," Hermione said.

"Poison?" Ron asked, slight excitement in his voice.

"No. I meant something about what a dreadful teacher she is. We aren't learning anything!"

"Well what do you say we do about that?" Harry asked, scribbling down the final sentence on his Charms essay.

"Well... Maybe we should just do it ourselves."

Harry looked up, frowning. "What?"

"Teach ourselves Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"You can't be serious," Ron said. "It's only the second week and Harry and I are behind on homework. We don't need extra work!"

As appealing as the idea sounded, Harry had to nod in agreement. He already did have a pile of essays waiting to be written on his desk in his room.

"This is more important than homework," Hermione snapped. "We need a proper teacher, one who can actually teach us stuff."

"If you're suggesting Lupin-" Harry started, knowing it wouldn't be a good idea to ask Lupin about anything to do with teacher ever again.

"No, I'm not."

"Who, then?"

"You, Harry."

"Wait, what?!" Harry asked loudly, Hermione immediately shushing him in fear that the librarian, Madame Pince, would kick them out. "I-I can't! Everyone thinks I'm a nutter!"

"Yes, but your a nutter with the highest Defence Against the Dark Arts grade!" Ron said, his eyes shining with excitement as he finally caught on.

"But I'm not a teacher!" Harry said exasperatedly.

"And neither is Umbridge," Hermione replied. "Harry, you're too of the class, I mean, look at what you've done!"

"What do you mean?!"

"Uh, I don't know," Ron pulled a face alike that to Goyle's when the boy was trying to 'think'. "You saved the Philosophers stone from you know who in first year."

"But I had your help with that!"

"You killed the basilisk in year two."

"I had help with that too!" Harry hissed. "If Fawkes hadn't-"

"You fought off all those dementors in third year," Ron said.

"I-"

"And then you won the Triwizard Tournament."

"Don't sit there grinning like you know better than I do," Harry hissed angrily. "I was there, wasn't I?! I didn't get through it because of Defence Against the Dark Arts, I got through it because of, of luck, or of guessing, or of help coming at the right time!"

By now Ron and Hermione were sharing smirks.

"Will you stop it?! You don't know what it's like, neither of you have had to face him, have you?! You think it's just memorising a bunch of spells and throwing them at him like we're in class or something?! Do you know how it feels to have nothing but your own wits between you and death?! Have you watched your family, and your friends die before your eyes and know that you could be next? They don't teach us what it's like to deal with that in class, and you two are just sitting there like I'm the clever little boy to be standing here, and Diggory was stupid, like he messed up? You-"

"We never said any of that, mate," Ron said quietly, looking aghast. "We weren't having s go at Diggory, we were just-"

"Harry," Hermione spoke timidly. "Don't you see? This-This is why we need you. We need to know what it's really like, facing him. Facing... V-Voldemort." Her voice trembled as she spoke the name. "At least consider it?" She asked as he stood up.

Harry nodded, turning and leaving he library without another word.

Draco was up in his room, and Harry didn't feel like asking him if he could sleep in his room.

Tiredly, he got into his coffin, dreams haunted by dark hallways, and evil, twitching, figures surrounded in black magic, scar prickling once again.